


Riptide (GGBB 2018)

by undergrumpcast



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Bodysurfer!Arin, California, Cute, Dan hates the ocean, Happy Ending, Light Smut, M/M, Mild Smut, Slow Burn, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 15:31:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15488988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undergrumpcast/pseuds/undergrumpcast
Summary: “I took off my clothes and I ran to the ocean, looking for somewhere to start anew / And when I was drowning in that holy water, all I could think of was you.” - Love is the End by KeaneArin is a bodysurfer, and Dan hates the ocean. When they meet in a bar and Arin vows to cure Dan’s phobia, the two of them are swept into a current together that they can’t escape.





	1. Just Drunk Enough

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic for the Game Grumps Big Bang Challenge! Along with the fic, I had an artist draw a piece for the fic and a mixer create a playlist for the fic as well!  
> I can't thank my wonderful collaborators enough for making some amazing additions to this fic.  
> Here's the art piece, made by @umbronydraws on tumblr: https://unicornwizardry.tumblr.com/post/176417791720/california-there-we-fell-into-the-shining-sea  
> And here's the wonderful playlist made by @the-unsusual-fan on tumblr: https://open.spotify.com/user/the-weird0/playlist/0kxL12N8G6c2p47nrvvuEB?si=lYMCt4jsQWCZ8MwI4L9jnw
> 
> Please go take a look at the amazing art and please listen to the playlist as you read!  
> Alright, that's all I have to say for now, enjoy Riptide!

Arin had always been in love with the sea. Living in Florida for the beginning of his life, he had made many trips to the beach. Each time he went, he fell in love with the water even more. The feeling of warm, salty seafoam rushing over his feet, then his legs, then his waist-- and suddenly he would be neck deep in the ocean with his parents yelling at him to get back onto shore. Soon he’d be back again though, unable to resist the call of the waves.

He was a bodysurfer. He had no desire to stand on a board and ride the waves -- he needed to be carried alone; just his body and the force of the ocean. The sport wasn’t popular with his parents, but Arin did it anyway. Before he could drive, he would bike to the beach. When he could drive, he snuck out at ungodly times of night and spent hours upon hours trying to catch waves under the moonlight. Surprisingly, he never drowned. Once, he got caught in a rip current, but hours of watching and reading about the ocean and the tides informed him that getting out was easy; one merely had to swim parallel to the shore to escape.

Leaving Florida destroyed him. Arin’s family moved his senior year of high school, and when they found him a new school in Nevada, he just didn’t go. He had no interest in finishing his education, and it was doing nothing to help him. Instead, he got a job, saving up to return to the ocean once again. All he wanted was to be close to the water.

It took years. Years of multiple jobs and living in disgusting conditions, but Arin eventually earned enough to move away. The original plan was to move back to Florida, but something inside was calling him to the opposite coast. Maybe it was the draw of a new place, or maybe it was the fact that it would be easier to get into the entertainment business there, but either way, Arin wanted to be there.  
California was much more expensive, but Arin managed. He found a steady job and a cheap apartment in Inglewood, not very close to the beach but just close enough. He started biking again, going to one of the beaches almost every day. The water was different from what he was used to; cold and harsh, filled with rough sand but surprisingly clear. He still loved it. Bodysurfing became his passion again. The years of being away from the ocean made him rusty, but the many months of being pummelled by the sea and being sore for most of those months finally paid off, and he could catch and ride waves smoothly again.

Everything seemed perfect. Everything _was_ perfect.

Then why was he sitting in a bar by himself at midnight?

 

The bitter taste of alcohol washed over Arin’s tongue, and he longed for the beach. He was slumped against the bar, nasty beer in hand, staring at the wood grain and wondering why he wasn’t out catching waves. He couldn’t give himself an answer. His mind was already slow from the two drinks he’d had, and he didn’t feel like putting in the effort to have a profound revelation about himself or something. So he sat, and he drank, and he ached for the taste of saltwater.

Arin wasn’t the only one drinking his buried problems away. Another man was sitting to his left who looked like he was already six feet under, slamming down alcohol like it was tap water. It was pretty concerning, actually. In Arin’s inebriated state he considered going over to make sure the guy was okay, but the part of him that was still sober decided to wait and observe. He didn’t need to get into a fight tonight. 

The very drunk man was leaning heavily against the bar, staring into his almost empty glass with an expression of exhaustion and utter misery. His mass of curly dark hair hung around his head like a raincloud, and his five o’clock shadow added to his aura of instability. The eye bags didn’t help either. Arin studied his face and came to the conclusion that he wasn’t all that threatening. In fact, Arin decided that if he cleaned up a little he would be pretty cute.

Arin’s body slowly moved from the stool it was seated on to the one next to the stranger, joints protesting with cracking akin to pistachio shells. It took a moment for the other man to notice. He turned to Arin with a scarred eyebrow cocked, brown eyes cloudy, but curious. “Can I help you?” His accent had a twinge of Jersey to it, and his breath reeked of hard liquor. 

Arin blinked slowly. “Uh, I was just wondering if you were okay. You look kinda not okay.” He suddenly felt awkward. Why did he think this was a good idea in the first place? Going up to random people in bars was not a usual pastime of his. 

The stranger blinked right back. “I’m uh. ’mfine,” he slurred. “Name’s Denny. Who’re you again?” 

Arin wasn’t sure if he heard that name right but he decided not to ask further. It didn’t really matter anyway, it’s not like he was going to see this guy again anytime soon. “Arin. Are you sure you’re okay, Denny?”

Denny laughed a little, and the crooked smile that stretched across his face made Arin’s Cute Rating for this guy go way up. “I mean if we’re talking about emotionally, nope. If we’re talking about physically, ‘at’s another nope. So I guess I lied, sorry.”

“It’s kay, man,” Arin reassured. “You wanna talk about anything? Normally I’d stay out of your business, but I’m just drunk enough to listen. Why face my own problems when I can hear someone else’s, right Denny?” He chuckled, taking another drink of his beer and shuddering. God, why did he drink this shit? Tasted like fermented piss.

Denny’s slow laughter was muffled slightly as he took a drink, face screwing up as he swallowed. “I’ll drink to that. And I jus’ did!” He went into a fit of giggles, slamming his glass down on the bar and signalling the bartender to bring him another drink. “And one for this nice guy here. Whatever he wants.”

Arin really didn’t need another drink, but wouldn’t it be rude to refuse? “I’ll take a Bloody Mary. Extra olives.” He was getting tired of shitty beer, and if he was getting a free drink, it might as well be a good one.

The two men sat in a content silence as the bartender prepared their drinks. For a moment Arin thought Denny had forgotten about sharing his problems, but once he had alcohol in his hand again, he spoke up. “Why can’t good things come to people who work hard for them?” His tone was genuine and sad, and the look he turned on Arin was one similar to a child who had his toy taken away.

Arin struggled to answer. “I don’t know. That’s life, I guess.”

“Well, I think that’s bullshit. It’s all bullshit,” Denny grumbled, pouting and staring into his glass once again. Arin nodded, popping an olive into his mouth. After he seemed to sober up for a moment, a tired look crossed Denny’s face and he closed his eyes. “Sometimes I think I jus’ need to give up. Jus’ stop tryin’ and go die in an alley in LA.”

The ominous silence that hung off of that statement made Arin’s inhibited instincts flicker back to life. “Hey, dude, that’s no way to talk. Whatever you’re going through, you can make it out. Just ride the wave and you’ll meet the shore again if you keep your eyes forward,” Arin advised with a swoop of his arm. Applying bodysurfing to life was something Arin did quite often. It made sense to relate difficult things in life to the sea since he knew so much about it. It somehow made shit easier to handle. 

Denny turned to Arin with a bemused expression. “What are you, a philospoffer?”

Arin felt his cheeks go red and he shrugged sheepishly. “I mean, I dunno. I’m drunk.”

They stared at each other for a second, then erupted into laughter. Denny’s giggle eventually turned into high-pitched squeaking, which made Arin crack up even harder, and his own guffaws evolved into a violent coughing fit. Denny patted his back, asking if he was alright while wiping his eyes with a thumb. 

“But seriously,” Arin continued, clearing his throat and putting a hand on the bar to steady himself, “just keep going. I don’t know you at all, but I believe in you, Denny.”

Denny smiled warmly. “...Thanks, Arin.”

 

Arin and Denny walked out of the bar, leaning on each other and laughing their heads off. They had stayed until closing time, joking and talking about anything that came into their inebriated heads. Arin, who stopped drinking after the first Bloody Mary and who was significantly less drunk than Denny (who kept ordering drink after drink) agreed to walk Denny home. It was mostly to make sure he didn’t pass out in the street, but it was also because he was having such a good time with the guy. It had been a while since Arin laughed this hard and maybe it was just because he was drunk, but he wanted to make it last as long as he could.

Luckily, Denny said he didn’t live too far away, and he was still coherent enough to give Arin directions. Before long, Arin started to realize that they were taking a route that was weirdly similar to the way to his own apartment building. And then they turned onto his street, and Arin was officially freaked out.

“Wait, wait, Denny.” Arin stopped walking and turned to the other intoxicated man, head tilted. “Is that your apartment building right there?” he asked, pointing to the structure up ahead. Denny nodded, and Arin made a noise of surprise. “What floor?”

“Three,” Denny slurred, belching loudly and giggling.

Arin stared at him for a moment. “What apartment…?”

“315.”

Arin said nothing for a while. Denny had to poke him in the arm to snap him out of the blank stare he was directing at the ground. “Dude, you’re my neighbor. I’m in 310,” Arin finally revealed. This was getting a little too strange for him. Denny stared back at him, swaying slightly, before completely passing out.

The alcohol in his system slowed Arin’s reflexes, but fortunately not enough to let Denny hit the ground. With some difficulty, Arin pulled him up and started to half-carry, half-drag him up the street and to the stairs of the apartment building. He leaned Denny against the wall and gave him a shake, trying to make him come to. “Come on, man, I can’t carry you up the stairs. You gotta wake up for just a little bit. Wakey wakey, Denny.”

Denny’s eyes slowly peeled open and he gave Arin a hazy smile and a giggle. “Mmm, you smell good, big cat.”

Arin’s face turned completely red and he laughed nervously, pointedly ignoring the strangely sweet pet name. “Uh, thanks. Let’s get you home.” 

Eventually, with lots of coaxing and pulling, the two drunk men managed to get up the stairs and to Denny’s apartment, which was just down the hall from Arin’s. Denny dug around in his pockets for his keys and fished them out, fumbling before handing them to Arin, who unlocked the door easily. The lock on Dan’s door was particularly sticky, just like Arin’s. The trick was to pull up on the handle as he turned the key.

As soon as Arin stepped in, the stench of cigarette smoke hit him like a ton of bricks. He immediately decided that if they somehow ended up hanging out again, they’d do it in his apartment. He couldn’t stand that smell.

Denny leaned against Arin and shut the door behind them, then stepped to stand face-to-face. They were about the same height, so it was easy to stare him in the eyes. Arin was a little uncomfortable, but he endured it. 

Until Denny leaned forward and placed a sweetly innocent kiss on his lips.

Arin froze, eyes flying wide open as his lagging brain tried to process what was happening. Long, gentle fingers moved up to frame his face, and Denny’s eyes fluttered shut as he started to slowly move his mouth against Arin’s. Arin almost pulled away, but it felt so lovely, and he was just drunk enough that he couldn’t help but reciprocate. He hesitantly held onto Denny’s elbows as his face was traced by feather-light touches. This was a first for him. Not the gay part, he was entirely used to that. It was just that he didn’t have any idea who this guy was. His mouth tasted like tobacco and liquor, but it was delightfully cool, and Arin couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the kiss and letting his eyes close. This was a mistake, but one he could indulge for at least a bit longer.

Denny started to grow more needy, gripping Arin’s shirt in one hand and slightly tugging at his hair with the other. He pressed their bodies together and Arin opened his eyes, feeling something he really didn’t want to feel. He reluctantly slowed down and leaned away, gently pulling Denny’s hands off of him but keeping him close. “I’m sorry,” was all Arin could say, stopped by the look in the other man’s eyes.

“‘S fine,” Denny mumbled, licking his slightly swollen lips. He stepped away, moving to lower himself down onto his ragged couch and letting his head loll over the back. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”  
“No, it’s fine, you’re drunk--”

“I mean with my life,” Denny clarified, rubbing his forehead. He suddenly seemed much more sober than before. “I want to become a musician. I want to make people happy through my music. But I have no music. I have shitty lyrics I wrote when I was 23 and in love, but that’s it. No band. No connections. No muse. I have nothing, and I’m scared I’m going to be too old if I finally get those things.”

Now Arin really didn’t know what to say. He related to Denny in a way, but he wasn’t utterly hopeless like him. Suddenly he felt guilty for having inspiration. “I… don’t know how to help you.” Arin paused, scratching his neck. “I really wish I could.”

Denny chuckled bitterly, ducking his head down and being surrounded by a cave of curly hair. “That’s what everyone says, but thank you. I think I need to go to sleep.”

Arin observed him, trying to figure out if it was really okay to leave. He was worried, but he really didn’t have the right to try and solve this guy’s problems when he barely knew him. So he obliged. With a soft goodbye, Arin left Denny’s apartment and walked to his own. Once inside he lit a candle and poured himself some water, trying to lessen the hangover he’d surely have the next morning. 

Denny seemed to be an interesting person; one Arin thought could be a potentially good friend. He came with baggage, but doesn’t everyone, whether you know it or not? Arin could handle it. Besides, Denny had made him laugh quite a bit, and honestly, he needed that kind of release in his life.

Arin pointedly ignored the kiss that they shared. They were drunk, and Denny was emotional, and bad things happen when those two things mix. Hopefully, Denny wouldn’t mention it in the future. Arin didn’t really want to deal with that kind of storm. 

After drinking the water and popping a few Advil, Arin got ready for bed and spent a little time staring at the ceiling. Something was going to change in his life, and he knew it. Or maybe it was just the alcohol. He thought about the future, anticipating it until his eyelids fell shut and the heavy weight of sleep settled over him.


	2. Checking In & Riding Out

The next morning, Arin slept until the afternoon. It was Sunday, so he didn't work, but he usually preferred to wake up before eleven. It made him feel more productive that way. Now he just felt like half of the day was wasted. Arin made himself some lunch and watched some nature documentary on Netflix, guzzling water to get rid of his pounding headache. Why did he let himself drink so much last night?

Then he remembered Denny. Shit, he thought to himself, running a hand through his hair. He probably needed to check on the guy and make sure he was okay. It was still strange to think that he just so happened to be Arin’s neighbor. The chance of that was so low that he almost felt that it was fate that made them meet in the bar.

Arin shook his head, laughing. Fate? He didn't believe in fate. Fate was for people who don't want to have control over their life. At least, that's what he thought.

After cleaning up his lunch he stepped out of his apartment, peeking down the hallway to make sure no one else was there. The coast was clear and he speed-walked to Denny’s door, pausing before knocking sharply.

Nothing happened for a few minutes, but then he heard the sound of a lock clicking and the door cracked open, showing the most exhausted-looking man in existence. Denny’s hair was even messier than the previous night, he obviously hadn't shaved, and a half-smoked cigarette was hanging loosely from in between his lips. He took a drag and exhaled upwards, being kind enough not to breathe it on Arin. “..Who are you?” He asked, voice rough and low.

Arin tried not to show his relief. _Thank god, he doesn't remember._ “Hey, Denny. I'm Arin. We met last night at the bar.”

Denny looked confused. “Denny…?”

“Yeah, is that… not your name?” Arin recalled a hazy memory of not hearing that name entirely right.

Denny rolled his eyes. “Wow, I guess I really had one too many. It's Dan, not Denny. Sorry about that.”

Arin let out a light chuckle. “Honestly, Dan fits you so much better.” 

_Dan_ cracked a hesitant smile, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and ashing it in the tray inside his door. “We must've gotten to know each other pretty well last night, huh?” He looked at Arin through his lashes, unintentionally becoming incredibly attractive in that small moment. Arin’s throat went dry and he looked away, shrugging.

“I guess. Mostly we just fucked around and complained vaguely about our problems.” _And we kissed,_ Arin’s mind continued. He felt his cheeks start to turn red. “I walked you home and amazingly, it turns out we're neighbors. I live just down the hall, dude. It's freaky.”

Dan’s eyebrows flew up. “No shit,” he said with a laugh, looking out at the hallway. “Well, sorry you had to see my awfully messy apartment. And thanks for getting me home, I guess.”

“Yeah.” The interaction was becoming steadily more awkward, and Arin's anxiety told him to get out of this situation. He cleared his throat and checked his phone, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Well, uh, I'm gonna go ahead and go back home. I hope your hangover gets better.”

“Totally, thanks man,” Dan replied, nodding. “You have a good one. Maybe we'll run into each other again and I can return the favor.”

Once Arin was back in his apartment, his heart rate slowly returned to normal. That went better than he expected it to, but not the best. At least Dan didn't remember the kiss. Or maybe he did, and he just didn't talk about it?

Arin ran his hands through his hair and sat down on his couch. Maybe playing some video games would help soothe his nerves.

Soon, he was navigating the scenic, rolling plains of Hyrule as the blue-clad Link. Breath of the Wild had become the ultimate source of escapism for him since it was released a month previously. He couldn’t afford a Switch yet, but he had saved enough to nab the Wii-U version of the widely-anticipated game when it first hit the shelves. Most of his time at home was spent exploring every nook and cranny of the game.

Arin’s hands went on autopilot and the rest of him drifted away, slowly bringing him back to the memory of the last night, to the interior of Dan’s apartment. The scent of cigarettes, the taste of Dan’s mouth, and the feeling of his hands on Arin’s face and body, needily clinging and tugging. Arin almost giving in, almost--

Suddenly Link fell off of a cliff. Arin snapped back into the present, quickly activating the paraglider and barely saving his protagonist from certain death. He paused the game, setting the gamepad beside him and putting his head in his hands. 

It was like Dan had invaded his head. Was he really this touch-starved? Sure, it had been a while since he’d been with someone, but he’d gone this long before. It felt like that had been the first time he’d ever been kissed. And it’s not like it was even that good; it was a _drunk kiss_ for god’s sake.

Arin shook his head and picked the gamepad back up, resuming his play. Link traveled across a plain and eventually ended up in a canyon, on his way to catch a giant horse or something. Arin was barely paying attention. On the way there, he ran into a Lynel, the enormous and dangerous centaur-like creatures that were renowned for kicking Link’s ass. Which is exactly what he did to Arin. After a few good dodges, Arin’s luck ran out and the Lynel’s club smacked Link in the face. The screen went dark and the all-too-familiar Game Over screen faded into view.

For a moment Arin just stared at the red letters, blinking. He took a few deep breaths and silently turned the Wii U off, trying not to lose his temper. Once the controller was safely stowed in the TV stand drawer, Arin ran a hand through his hair. He let this shit affect him too much.

Arin decided he’d go down to the beach to get his mind off of things. That always seemed to work. It took about an hour to get to Santa Monica, but he didn’t feel like biking that much. He settled on going to Dockweiler Beach, which wasn’t as big but it only took around 40 minutes to get there.

As he chained his bike to the stand in the parking lot of Dockweiler, Arin felt a chill run through his body. He looked out to the waves. Tide was low and they weren’t particularly big, but he didn’t mind. Any waves were good waves to Arin.

The beach wasn’t particularly crowded, surprisingly. Everyone was probably at Santa Monica or Redondo. Arin stripped off his tank top and kicked his sandals away, stepping onto the warm sand and sighing in relief. He broke into a jog and stopped once he hit the point where the waves broke onto the shore.

The moment that the cold water touched his feet was always his favorite part. He stood, letting it wash over his toes and then stayed as it flowed away, taking the sand from under his feet and covering them once it came back again. The rhythmic motion put Arin in some kind of trance, almost as if the burial of his feet was also a burial of all the burdens on his back.

Dan was right. Maybe he was meant to be a philosopher.

He pulled his feet from underneath the sand and pulled his mind from the lull of the tides, wading further, and pausing when he was waist-deep to look out at the ocean. As far as he could tell, there weren’t many large waves forming. Maybe one or two, but he’d have to swim out further to catch them as they broke. Arin kicked off of the sand and began to swim out to sea, occasionally looking back to make sure he had bearings on where he was. The sea tended to pull swimmers down the shore, and if one wasn’t careful, one would have to swim a long way to get back to their starting point. 

Once he was at a decent distance from the shore, he stopped moving deeper and floated in place, bouncing on the sand beneath his feet. Now it was only a matter of waiting. Arin had an eye on a wave in the distance that seemed to be forming well. It was about three waves back, so he had to stand and bob, biding time. Finally, after jumping with the fourth wave, the one he was watching started to break in front of him with perfect timing. Immediately, Arin turned his back to it and launched off the sand, propelling himself as soon as the wave hit his back. 

The water rushed around him, launching him forward, and Arin was riding the crest of the wave like a dolphin. It was like flying. He stretched his arms out and a triumphant yell forced its way out of his mouth, devolving into a fit of joyous laughter once the wave turned into whitewater and his stomach was scraping against the sandy shore. It was rare that he could ride a wave to its end.

Arin sat in the water, still grinning from the high that only catching waves could deliver. Salty air blew his soaked hair away from his face and he inhaled, closing his eyes. This truly was his home.


	3. Issues

The beginning of the new week was proving to be average for Arin. Monday was dragging on as usual, and once he finally got off his shift at the comic store, he rushed home. 

Inglewood Comics, the “quirky” comic shop Arin worked at, was hidden in a strip mall between a Starbucks and a large dollar store. The shop didn’t get much foot traffic aside from the regular customers checking for new items to add to their collections every week. Mostly Arin got stuck filing and stocking and shelving books, much to his distaste. He’d been working there for over a year, and would probably be for a while. Every day he counted the minutes until his shift ended at 5:30 PM. 

This particular Monday was as equally monotonous as the rest of them. All Arin wanted to do was relax at home for a while and maybe go to the beach. The conditions weren’t too good for bodysurfing, though, so he’d probably spend the rest of the day doing whatever around the apartment or trying to write cartoon scripts.

Arin’s footsteps echoed lightly as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. He stopped in front of his door, reaching into his pocket for his keys. The sounds of a door opening and shutting down the hall made him pause, and he looked over to see Dan heading towards him. The other man was staring at the floor as he walked, expression distant and relatively unreadable.

 _Should I say hello?_ Arin debated in his head, chewing on his lip. He scratched the back of his neck, glancing back down at the keys in his hand. Before he could decide on anything, the footsteps stopped, and he heard Dan speak behind him. “Oh, hey, Arin.”

Arin turned quickly, trying to act as if he hadn’t seen Dan before. “Dan! Nice to see you again.”

His neighbor flashed a friendly smile, putting his hands in his pockets. “Just getting back from work, or..?”

With a nervous nod, Arin confirmed Dan’s assumption. “Yeah. Where are you headed to?” 

Suddenly, Dan’s light appearance turned anxious. “Uh, just… Just going to hang out with friends. Um.” He shifted his feet. “Where do you work?”

Arin decided to ignore the change in Dan’s tone and continued with the conversation. “Inglewood Comics, on Main Street,” he informed, a little embarrassed. It wasn’t anything impressive. His parents definitely weren’t too proud of him working there. Every time they called, they asked if he was still working there. The answer was always yes, and the reply was always, “Oh.”

Dan’s eyes lit up and he tilted his head. “We have a comic book shop? I didn’t know that. I’ll have to come by soon.”

That was not the reaction Arin had expected from his neighbor. His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Uh, yeah. That’d be awesome, man. I work till 5:30 most days, so, uh. Swing by when you have time if you want.”

The two men stood in a weird silence for a little while before Arin spoke up again, twirling his keys around his fingers. “Is your job as lame as mine?” he asked, trying to break the strange atmosphere they were caught in. 

Dan seemed to come back to reality as Arin talked, shaking his head a little and locking eyes with the brunette. “I don’t think your job is lame. Certainly better than mine. I work at the instrument store on the east side of town. Horns Unlimited.” He chuckled. “The name of the store is about as exciting as the people who own the place. It’s pretty much all old dudes who yell at kids for touching the expensive shit.”

“Hey, that’s still interesting. At least you don’t work at a restaurant or something. That’s what I tell myself to get through the day,” Arin advised, wanting to pat Dan on the shoulder but holding his over-friendly side back. “It could always be worse.”

That seemed to help Dan’s mood. He nodded, still gazing into Arin’s eyes. “Yeah. I guess I never thought of it like that. You’ve got a good point of view, Arin.”

Warmth simmered in Arin’s stomach and he broke their eye contact, moving his sight to the ground. “I wouldn’t want to make you late to see your friends, so I guess I’ll head in?” He lifted his keys and jingled them a little to emphasize his point.

Dan seemed confused for a second before remembering his previous statement. “Oh yeah! Yeah.” He didn’t seem to be in as much of a hurry as he was before. “It was nice running into you, Arin. See you ‘round?”

“Sure, see you ‘round,” Arin repeated, waving as Dan started descending the stairs. He unlocked his apartment and ducked inside, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He needed to get ahold of himself, or he’d start getting a crush on this guy he met two days ago, which was not a good thing. Or.. maybe it could be?

 

Two days later, Arin was at the register of Inglewood Comics, reading one of the new Marvel issues. He didn’t really have any opinion about Marvel, but their comics were high quality and the art was decent, so he appreciated the company. At this point, he only read them for the art, not really paying too much to the story. Wednesdays were usually their slowest days since Tuesday was restocking day, and all of the comic book collectors came to nab the new issues. There were some random tourists or people just browsing, but other than that it was a ghost shop.

It was almost the end of Arin’s shift, and he was starting to get antsy. He stared at the clock on the adjacent wall, fingers tapping out some random rhythm that was stuck in his head. Would it kill his boss to put some speakers in here so they could at least play some ambient video game music? The silence drove Arin crazy. 

At last, there was a break in the quiet as the bell on the door rang. Arin peeked over the shelf blocking his view to see who was coming in. He caught a glimpse of poofy, dark hair, and immediately his stomach twisted. _You’re acting like a teenager,_ Arin chastised himself. _Getting all flustered just by seeing someone. How ridiculous._

Sure enough, it was Dan who had walked in. He didn’t seem to see Arin since he was so busy staring around in excitement at all of the comic books he was surrounded by. Once he eventually realized Arin was behind the register, his already beaming face stretched wider. “Hi! This place is awesome, dude!”

Arin smiled warmly at Dan’s wonder. He wished he felt like that every time he walked in. Most of the time he experienced a sense of dread. “I’m glad someone thinks so,” Arin admitted, walking around to the front of the counter. “Thanks for coming in, I was about to start smashing my head against the wall.” 

Dan continued to look around, turning to a shelf and thumbing through some of the issues. “Shit, there are some nice editions in this place.” He carefully lifted one from among the countless others, handling it like a baby. It was a Special Edition X-Men comic book, one of the older issues in the store. “Damn, that’s in good condition for being crowded next to a million others day in and day out.”

Arin stepped closer to peek at the book he was holding, then nodded with a light snicker. “Yeah, my boss likes to put the nice ones in the mix sometimes. People who don’t know what they’re doing freak when I tell them the price.” Dan carefully slid the comic back in the right place and peered around some more. “You looking for something in particular?” Arin questioned. “I know this place pretty well; I bet I could find what you need.”

Dan scratched his arm sheepishly. “Uh, I was just wondering if you have any of the old Blackhawk comics. I know he’s not that popular, but--”

“Yeah! C’mere, we’ve got a few. Blackhawk is awesome, dude. A classic.” Arin gestured for Dan to follow him, already walking to one of the wall shelves. “You prefer the more recent issues or the older stuff?”

Dan seemed a little hesitant. “I… I don’t really know. The last time I went to a comic store was ages ago. My only Blackhawk books were ones from when I was a kid, and I think they’re in a box in my parents’ attic. I haven’t been keeping up at all.” His demeanor dropped, the nostalgia seeming to bring him down rather than lifting him up.

Arin scratched his chin. “Well, I can go in the back and see if we have any new editions from yesterday. You look around some more. I put up some new vinyl statues in the display case at the front, go see if you can find any cool ones,” he instructed Dan, moving towards the door to the storage room.

After searching through a few unsorted boxes for a while, Arin found a newer issue of Blackhawk. It wasn’t the latest, but it was still pretty recent. He brought it back out into the central area of the store, but there was no sign of Dan. Confused, Arin looked around the store, trying to figure out where Dan went. The only bathroom was in the back, and Dan definitely wouldn’t know where it was. Eventually, Arin went back to the register and sat on his stool, letting out a resigned sigh.

That’s when he noticed the folded piece of paper on the counter. It was a receipt to the dollar store, but once he flipped it over there was a message scrawled in red Sharpie: _‘sorry but have to go, keep that comic out for me! -Dan.’_

Arin re-read the note, eyebrows furrowing. What was so urgent that Dan had to just up and leave without saying anything? It’s not like Arin was looking for that long; he was only in the back for just over five minutes.

Patiently, although a bit concerned, Arin waited for his shift to be over. He ended up buying the Blackhawk comic with his own money. He didn’t want someone else to buy it, and if Dan wanted to, he could pay him back. It wasn’t a big deal. Arin wanted to make a good impression, and buying shit for him was a great start, right?

The front door opened and Arin shot up, trying to see who it was. “Excited to leave, Arin?” an accented voice said, and Arin slumped back down. It was Ross, Arin’s Australian friend and co-worker, arriving to take over the next shift. Ross’s schedule for work was continually changing. Sometimes he worked with Arin on restock day, sometimes he took the shift after Arin, and sometimes he worked the weekends organizing the storage room. Barry, their boss, was kind of annoyed by Ross. The two were dating, though, so conflicts usually worked themselves out away from the store.

“As always,” Arin replied, stretching. “You ready to go biking this weekend? I already have ours reserved at the rental place so you really can’t back out this time.” Even though Ross didn’t really like to be active, Arin tried to bike with him at least once every few weeks. Of course, Ross almost always found an excuse to get out of it. Now that Arin took the initiative and rented ahead of time, Ross would feel worse about flaking out and hopefully wouldn’t this time.

Ross crossed his arms uncomfortably, looking everywhere but at Arin. “Well, uh, about that…”

“Come on, Ross. You can’t do this to me again. I’ll really look pathetic this time now that I’ve gotten it rented out and everything.”

“It’s not like I want you to be embarrassed! Barry wanted to go to Disneyland because my parents are visiting for the weekend, and I really can’t miss that,” Ross explained, grimacing. 

A heavy exhale came from Arin’s mouth. Of course, the one time he actually took preventative measures was the one time Ross had a decent excuse. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner, man?” 

“I forgot! I _honestly_ forgot until my parents called me last night, asking if I was going to pick them up from the airport.” He gave Arin an authentic, pleading look and then slowly shifted his gaze to the ground, posture slumping. “I’m really sorry. I could tell you were looking forward to hanging out with me, and I shouldn’t take your friendship for granted.”

Arin just eyed his friend, brows lifted. Ross wasn’t one for admitting heartfelt emotions; not to Arin, anyway. “...It’s okay, dude. I understand, don’t worry about me; I’ll either cancel the rental or I’ll find someone else to go with me.”

Ross beamed. “You’re the best. Now get your ass outta here so I can work.”

On the short drive home, Arin pondered over who he’d take biking. Maybe his friends Matt and Ryan would go, but his rental was for two people, not three. He supposed he could bring his own bike, but then he remembered that it wouldn’t fit in his car. Matt and Ryan hardly did anything without each other, so it was a no to taking just one. 

When Arin arrived at his apartment building, he still hadn’t figured out what to do. He really didn’t want to cancel the rental; he’d really been looking forward to it. 

Arin approached Dan’s door, bending down to prop the Blackhawk comic against it. He’d written a little note mimicking Dan’s on the plastic covering the comic: _hope you enjoy, Denny! -Arin._

Then it hit him. Maybe Dan would be interested in biking with him. It would be kind of weird, but it would also be a chance to hang out with him as new friends instead of strangers in a bar, or awkward neighbors. Arin slowly padded back to his own apartment, pausing once he reached the door to look back at Dan’s. 

_Yeah. That might actually be nice._


	4. The Strand

Sunday morning, Arin knocked on the door of apartment 315, chewing on his lip and bouncing in anticipation. _Please be home, please be home, please be--_

His thoughts were cut short by the door swinging open. Dan looked confused, as usual, but his posture relaxed when he realized who it was. “Oh, hey, Arin. Need anything?” A toothbrush was hanging out of his mouth and his hair was damp, the soft scent of shampoo wafting out into the hallway. It was heavenly, and it took everything Arin had not to close his eyes and just breathe it in for a moment.   
“No, I was actually wondering if you had any plans for this afternoon.”

The puzzled expression returned to Dan’s freshly-shaved face, and he shook his head while continuing to brush his teeth.

“My friend and I were supposed to go bike the Strand, but he dropped out at the last minute. I already reserved stuff at the bike rental, and I was wondering if you would want to go so I won’t look like an idiot by myself.” He swallowed, looking down at his shoes. “I get it if you don’t want to; you don’t really know me, and it might be awkward, but I just wanted to offer since you’re a cool guy and it’d be awesome to get to know you better.”

Dan nodded slowly as Arin spoke, pausing for a moment after he stopped. Dan pulled the toothbrush out of his mouth and swallowed, like an absolute heathen. Arin was disgusted, but Dan just laughed it off. “That actually sounds really nice. I haven’t ever biked the Strand and I’ve always wanted to, but I never really had anyone to do it with. Plus, I think you’re an alright dude yourself, and I’d be happy to hang out.” He gave Arin a warm smile. 

Arin laughed softly in relief, rubbing his hands together. “Okay! Okay, yeah, that sounds great! I’m in 310, you probably know that by now. I’ll see you at like, 12:30? We can get lunch on the pier if you want.”

Dan nodded emphatically, seeming to be just as enthusiastic about this as Arin was. “Totally! I’ll just knock on your door when I’m ready.”

After Dan went back in, Arin practically ran back to his apartment, brimming with relief and excitement. This was going really well. They were becoming friends! Arin didn’t have that many friends here. He had Ross, Barry, Matt, and Ryan, but they were the kind of people who liked to voice chat or text instead of actually being together. Arin had the feeling that Dan was the opposite. 

He changed into shorts and a tank top, feeling a little insecure but trying to be confident at the same time. Arin wanted to make this as fun as possible, and if he was worried about what he looked like the whole time, it would suck the positivity away. And god knows he needed positivity. He nervously played Breath of the Wild and ate a quick breakfast, brain humming with nerves. The time passed so slowly for him, almost agonizingly slowly. Then it was finally 12:25, and Arin shut the game down, getting his phone out to play Tetris instead while he waited impatiently.

As soon as he heard knocking, Arin shot up and flung the door open, revealing Dan in a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, and the most ripped jeans Arin had ever seen. He snorted, waving his hands at the jeans and remarking, “Those jeans are so hole-y that a fucking _demon from hell_ could walk into church wearing them, and not burst into flames.”

It was a dumb joke, but Dan seemed to appreciate it, because he immediately started cracking up, laughter echoing through the hallway. Arin chuckled awkwardly before Dan’s squeaking laughs kicked in, and that set Arin off as well. He closed the door and there they were, two goofs busting up at seemingly nothing. 

Arin had a burn in his chest and stomach by the time they settled down, and he startled when Dan slapped an arm onto his bare shoulder. “Whew, that was a good one, man,” Dan giggled. “Stupid, but good.”

Arin absolutely _beamed._ No one had ever thought his dumb jokes were that funny. Not even Ross, who had been his best friend for years. When he said something cheesy, his friends usually just rolled their eyes.

He had a good feeling about this.

The two men climbed into Arin’s car and headed to the bike rental shop, which was at Hermosa Beach. The shop was just inland from the beach, and the alley it was located in was directly connected to the beginning of the Strand. It was usually crowded, but manageable. Arin loved biking the Strand or just walking it because it ran parallel to the ocean, and he could hear the crashing of the waves down the whole path.

Once they found a relatively close parking spot and fed the meter, Dan and Arin made the short walk to the bike shop. The girl working the register greeted Arin with a hug. All of the workers were familiar with him because he’d worked there for a few months after he made the move to Inglewood. The girl led him and Dan to the back part of the shop and pulled out the bike Arin had reserved: A two-person tandem bike. Arin suddenly remembered that he failed to inform Dan that they didn’t have their own bikes. Ross was so terrible at riding a bike by himself that they always used a tandem on their somewhat rare excursions to the Strand.

As the employee went over the basics of the bike and pointed out how to handle it, Arin glanced over at Dan. He had a bewildered expression on his face and was looking between Arin and the tandem bike with some puzzled amusement. Once the worker left them to pull the bike outside, Dan turned to Arin and pointed at the bike with his thumb. “We’re riding that?”

“I’m so sorry, Dan, I forgot we had a tandem. My friend is shit at riding bikes, I swear I forgot--”

Dan interrupted him with a laugh. “Arin, it’s totally fine. There’s no problem.” He shook his head, smiling. “This week has been a good one for me, which is rare, and I think it’s because of you. We only talked like four times. Maybe we need to hang out more often.”

Blood rushed to Arin’s cheeks, and he grinned. “Yeah, I guess.” He grabbed the tandem bike by the handlebars and walked it outside into the alleyway, then further out to a parking lot next to where the Strand began. “Alright, Dan, I’m assuming you’ve never ridden a bike like this before.” Dan shook his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Okay, then I’ll have to give you a lesson.” Arin cracked his knuckles and swung a leg over the handlebars of the bike, straddling the main tube of the bike just in front of the seat.

“Tandem biking is a little different than regular biking. Mostly for me, but a few things are different for you, too. The main thing is that you can’t really see the road in front of us, so you’ll be relying on me to steer, or to warn you about any bumps in the road, or to tell you to stop pedalling.”

Arin went through the basics of riding tandem, explaining the verbal commands that he would be using to signal Dan. “On,” meant start pedalling, “Off,” meant stop pedalling. “Bump,” was to let Dan brace himself for an obstacle in the road, and “Shift” meant that Arin was shifting gears. He taught Dan how to start riding the bike, (since it was basically up to him to get them going while Arin steered and sat on the seat) and they tried it a few times. The first start was a bit rough, of course, but by the third or fourth time, Dan seemed to be getting the hang of it. 

“Okay, I think you might be ready to do this for real,” Arin stated after a successful start-and-stop. “Do you feel ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I think,” Dan replied, giving himself a little shake.

Arin did a fist pump, ringing the bell on his handlebars in celebration. “Awesome! Oh, and just as a general rule, if you hear me curse you should probably prepare yourself and stop pedalling.”

“O-Okay,” Dan chuckled, moving into position to push off. “It’s all systems go. On your mark, Arin.”

Arin took a deep breath, preparing himself to steer and jump onto the seat of the bike. “ON!” he shouted, and Dan started pedalling. Arin successfully made it onto the bike and pedalled as well, ringing his bell and whooping in celebration. He steered them out of the parking lot they practiced in, moving them to the Strand. The cement path was inhabited by other people, some biking, some jogging, some walking their dogs. There were also a few people skateboarding and rollerblading. Arin weaved the tandem bike through the pedestrians, ringing the bell to signal.

Arin heard a soft, “wow,” from behind him and he grinned. Looking to his right, there was the tan sand of Hermosa Beach, and further out was the whitewater and waves of the Pacific Ocean. The beach was relatively full that afternoon. Girls in skimpy bikinis played beach volleyball, and kids splashed around in the surf. Frisbees flew and kites dotted the sky, colorful tails drifting in the cool sea breeze like seaweed underwater.

The bike traffic light a ways ahead turned red and Arin called, “Off,” slowing his feet and trusting that Dan would do the same. Sure enough, their bike slowed, and Arin braked, then slid forward to straddle the bike frame again.. He felt Dan lean back as both of them rested their feet on the ground. 

“I didn’t know there were traffic lights for bikes. Or speed limits for bikes. Are we following that, by the way?” Dan asked, tone slightly concerned. The speed limit signs were posted every now and then. On the stretch they were on, it was 8 miles per hour.

“The speed limits are really only enforced on the more popular beaches. Once you get down to Torrance Beach and when you’re on the stretch between Santa Monica and Venice, you can kind of just go whatever speed everyone else is going,” Arin explained. The light turned green and he gave the start command, and the two were off again. 

They made their way down the Strand, stopping every once and a while for traffic lights, and keeping a generally slow speed. They reached the end of Hermosa Beach, and Arin slowed them down to go through a parking lot despite the obvious continuation of the path to their left. Dan poked him in the shoulder, puzzled. “Hey, Arin, why didn’t we go that way like the other bikers?”

Arin didn’t answer and turned right out of the parking lot, onto a short road, then made a left and another right. They were the only ones on this road that ran next to what looked like a yacht club of some sort. Suddenly they were next to water, and the docks were packed with fancy sailboats. Definitely a yacht club. Arin felt Dan shift his weight on the bike shakily, and he fought to keep his balance. “You need to try and keep your weight even; I might fall over if you don’t.”

He heard Dan let out a quiet, “sorry,” and continued leading them down the road, into another large parking lot. Eventually, he gave the off command, and the tandem bike slowed to a stop by a bike rack and a large pile of rocks.

Arin swung his legs over the bike and started locking it to the rack. Dan stayed in his seat, looking around nervously. “This is a little spot I like to come and sit at sometimes. It’s just on top of these breakwater rocks. C’mon, it’s an easy climb.”

Helping Dan up alongside him, Arin deftly climbed the massive rocks blocking their view and soon they were standing precariously close to the sea, looking out over Hermosa Beach in the distance. The breakwater rocks curved in a line, protecting the docking area of the yacht club from waves. “That behind us is Basin One, where the insanely rich people park their boats,” Arin said with a laugh, gesturing to the docks. “And right in front of us is the ocean. Amazing view, right?”

Arin turned towards Dan, expecting an awed expression; maybe a small exclamation of wonder.

Dan looked absolutely terrified.

His body was stiff, arms crossed, eyes sporting a thousand-yard stare that shot across the massive expanse of the Pacific Ocean. The salty breeze blew his hair every so often, and Arin could see that he was sweating like a hog. “Holy shit, Dan, are you okay?” Arin got no response, and he stood directly in front of Dan, gently grabbing his shoulders and giving him a shake. “Dan? Hey, look at me.”

Dan snapped out of his trance and started to wheeze, chest heaving up and down. Wordlessly he stared at Arin, eyes wide like a frightened animal. After a moment of panting, he reached out and held Arin’s arms, squeezing so hard that his knuckles turned white. “I can’t be up here Arin, I can’t, I gotta get down.”

Concern spiking drastically, Arin shook his head. “Hey, it’s fine, Dan, we’re not that high. If these rocks can support a fat dude like me, they can--”

“No, no, it’s not that, I just-- I really need to get down, please.”

Confused, Arin obliged and held onto Dan as they made their way back to the bike. Once his feet hit the pavement, Dan let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. His lungs were still panting like a dog’s, and Arin kept his hands on Dan’s arm, looking him in the eyes. “Take deep breaths Dan, deep breaths. It’s okay. I’m here.”

After a minute, Dan’s breathing slowed down, and his expression evolved from panic to veiled disappointment. “Thanks,” he uttered, a chill visibly running down his spine.

“Are you okay?” Arin questioned, still holding onto his friend. His eyes flicked between both of Dan’s and then over his entire body, scanning to make sure that everything was all right.

“I’m fine now, thank you. I just. I don’t like being that close to the ocean,” Dan admitted. He took a step back, letting Arin’s hands slip off of him. “It freaks me out.”

Arin was honestly devastated. “...Why?”

Dan shrugged, looking away. “Believe me, it’s a very, very dumb reason. You don’t want to know.”

“Dan, the ocean is the most important thing in the world to me. I can’t just not know why you’re terrified of it.”

There was a long pause before Dan spoke up again. He rubbed his face, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I watched Jaws once. And it gave me nightmares, and a stupid phobia of large bodies of water, okay?”

Arin snorted. “Come on, man. Jaws? Nothing like that ever happens in real life. Sharks don’t hang around here. Maybe in like, Hawaii, but I’ve never seen a shark here or at any other beach. I lived in Florida for 19 years and the only place I saw one was at the aquarium.” Arin peered at Dan, a sudden determinism in his eyes. “...Have you ever swam in the ocean before?”

Dan shook his head, almost shamefully. 

Arin kneeled and started unchaining the tandem bike, a mischievous grin on his face. “Are you not going to call me a little bitch? Not gonna make fun of me or try to rationalize any further? Because that’s usually what happens,” Dan accused, stepping closer to Arin and trying to tower over him -- even though they were the same height.

Looking up in surprise and rising from his knees, Arin reached out and put a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “Of course not. I’ll do something better, because I’m your friend.”

“And what’s that?”

Arin smiled once again, turning around to swing his leg over the bike. “I’m going to help you get over your fear. And teach you how to bodysurf.” He ringed the tinny bell on his handlebar. “Come along, Danny. Let’s get some lunch, and we can discuss my plan.”

Begrudgingly, and without a word to dissuade Arin of his ridiculous proposal, Dan sat on his end of the bike. They made their way out of the parking lot and past Basin One, soon leaving the breakwall behind. Arin steered the tandem bike back to the Strand, where it continued onto Harbor Drive. It was a main road, but they had their own bike lane, separated from vehicles by a median or, occasionally, painted triangles on the pavement. Several other bikers were riding along with them now, each giving a friendly smile or a _ding_ as they passed. 

The bike lane that they were on eventually disconnected from the main road, going off by itself into a tunnel of sorts. This was Arin’s favorite part of the Redondo stretch of the Strand, mostly because it was in the shade, and because it was connected to the Redondo Boardwalk and the pier.

The Redondo Boardwalk wasn’t nearly as large as the more well-known Marina Del Rey near Santa Monica, but Arin found it more comfortable to be in. There weren’t as many people or boats, and in his opinion, the restaurants were much better. The only downside was that once they exited the tunnel, Arin and Dan had to get off of their shared bike and walk it until they reached the other tunnel leading to the pier. 

Keeping Dan’s hesitancy in mind, Arin had them walk along the inner part of the boardwalk, making sure they weren’t too close to the marina. Luckily, the many fish markets along the boardwalk were keeping Dan’s focus away from the water. He laughed and poked at Arin to show him the ridiculously-named fish, and gasped at the strange things that were marketed as food. Arin just chuckled, having seen it all before.

Arin liked having Dan with him. Besides his fear of the sea, Dan was a pretty good mirror of Arin’s personality. They had the same sense of humor, some of the same mannerisms, and they got along pretty well despite the awkwardness. That part was going away, though, as the two spent more time together. Arin felt himself starting to relax, and he could see that Dan was becoming more comfortable as well. Soon the both of them were crowding around the fish tanks, making fun of the sea creatures and giving them silly voices. Their satisfying fits of laughter echoed around the boardwalk, surely annoying the hell out of the other people there.

Finally, the two biked their way through another tunnel and ended up at Redondo Beach Pier. Arin chained the bike up and ran ahead, sandals slapping on the cement as he waved for Dan to follow. They were going to eat lunch at Arin’s favorite restaurant on the pier, a little cafe at the end of the Fisherman’s Wharf.

Dan followed Arin, but a little slowly. Fisherman’s Wharf was the boardwalk of the pier, and it was situated high above the water. The beach was further back, so the water underneath the pier was deeper, and void of people splashing around and having fun. That seemed to make Dan more nervous.

Arin faltered, waiting for Dan to catch up. They were about halfway down the southern edge of the pier, and their destination was near the western side. Arin gave Dan an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “The cafe is just on the corner. Just look at the sky, Dan. You got this.”

Dan nodded forcefully, clenching his fists and lifting his eyes skyward as Arin led him along the boardwalk. This stretch of the pier was floored in deep brown wooden planks, unlike the other legs, which were all covered in cement. It made it more aesthetically pleasing for Arin, but more nerve-wracking for Dan. He could see the waves forming through the slats of wood.

“We’re here, bud. That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Arin opened the door to the cafe, smiling. A woman wearing an apron walked up to them, then led them to a table in the middle of the restaurant. There were only a few other people seated around them. Arin and Dan were waited on and had their orders taken in a flash.

Arin inhaled deeply, letting his eyes flutter closed. “I love the smell of this place. Seafood and coffee. Makes me feel at home,” he mused warmly, looking around the cafe. He took a moment to observe Dan, also. The other man still seemed to be on edge, but Arin’s comment made him relax a little. 

“I’ve never been on a pier,” Dan remarked, “for obvious reasons, of course. But… this is nice, I think. If I weren’t with you, I’d be shitting my pants for sure right now. So I guess that counts for improvement?” He snickered lightly, eyes squinting.

Arin chuckled and leaned back in his chair, his heart feeling warm and soft for Dan. He immediately straightened up, clearing his throat and trying not to focus on the way Dan tugged his fingers through his insanely frizzy hair. “So. How do you feel about meeting twice a week?”

Dan waited for Arin to continue, but spoke up when he realized Arin wasn’t going to add to his question. “...For what?”

“Your training. We’ll need to do it often for it to stick in your head. How about Sundays and Wednesdays? Afternoons on Sundays and evenings on Wednesdays… yeah, that’ll work for me, what about you?”

Dan’s eyebrows arched. “Wh-- I don’t know what we’re talking about,” he stammered, taking a sip of his water. “Is this that-- that thing you were talking about at the rocks?”

Arin nodded, beaming. “Yep! I’m going to teach you how to love the ocean.”

Dan snorted. “Are you my romance coach? I can do just fine in that area, thank you though,” he teased with a wink thrown straight at Arin.

A lump formed in Arin’s throat, and he forced himself to swallow past it. “Uh, no. You’re going to get over your fear, remember?” He didn’t understand why he needed to repeat this. Dan had for sure heard him earlier, and he’d made no protest then. Maybe he thought Arin was joking. “I’m serious, dude,” he added, putting on a straight face to emphasize his point.

“..You really don’t have to do that, Arin. I’m fine with being afraid of the ocean. It keeps me safe,” Dan elaborated. “I don’t need your help.”

“Well, I’m going to do it anyway. It matters to me that you get to experience the most amazing thing in the world. And as a friend, albeit a new one, I want you to be able to enjoy life to its fullest.”

Dan looked down at the table, fiddling with the fork he’d been given. “I really appreciate that. I do.” He paused, laying the fork back down. “I guess… I guess we can try.”

Victoriously, Arin did an exaggerated fist-pump. “YESSSSSS!” he cried, and Dan laughed. Arin joined in and felt even warmer than before.

Soon they had plates of delicious seafood in front of them. Arin had ordered a combo of chicken strips and fried shrimp, while Dan just got the shrimp. It was classic boardwalk food, buttery and crunchy, and even better with cocktail sauce. They spent lunch discussing the times of their “beach therapy,” as Arin dubbed it, and agreed that the original times Arin mentioned would be the best. 

By the time they were finished eating, Arin had realized that their bike was due in 20 minutes. Hurriedly, they paid, left the pier, and hopped onto the bike. Arin called out commands as they sped down the bike trail, trying not to think about how close Dan’s handlebars -- and hands, subsequently -- were to Arin’s ass.

Dan and Arin made it back to Hermosa Cyclery on time, but they were pretty winded. The girl who had given them the bike made sure that it wasn’t damaged, then said they were free to go. Arin found a bench nearby and nearly collapsed on it, sweat dripping down his nose. 

“Shit, we went pretty fast, Dan,” Arin panted, lifting his hand for a high-five. Dan returned it weakly, plopping down next to Arin.

“My legs feel like jelly, dude,” he said breathlessly, rubbing circles into his calves slowly. “I’m surprised I could still stand up after that.”

“PFF-TSSS-KSS-TSSS THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID,” Arin cried, beatboxing obnoxiously.

Dan immediately went into a fit of hilarity, bending at the waist and clutching his stomach. Arin giggled a little, but then just watched in fondness as Dan kept laughing and laughing, at one point turning to lean heavily against Arin’s side. It made Arin think about when they were drunk, and when he had to practically carry Dan up the stairs to his apartment. As Dan laughed into his shoulder, and as his hands grabbed at Arin’s tank top for stability, Arin wished he hadn’t stopped them from kissing on the night that they met.


	5. Testing the Waters

Redondo Beach wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t empty. Families with beach towels and umbrellas sat under the sun, parents lazily watching as their kids splashed each other in the shallow surf. It was low tide, so not that many people were there for surfing purposes. Normally Arin wouldn’t be there either, but it was Wednesday evening. The first of many sessions with Dan, trying to break his fear of the sea. 

Arin was going to start off easy. He’d make Dan sit as close to the shore as he could stand, and then he would go into the water by himself and swim around, maybe try and catch a wave if there were any decent ones. The low tide would make that hard, but the point wasn’t to show off. Arin just wanted to help Dan see that there was virtually nothing to be afraid of. Except for riptides. Those were incredibly dangerous.

But Dan could learn about those later, he supposed. There was time. Arin didn’t want to scare him even more than he already was.

Arin felt a soft tap on his shoulder and he turned, being met with gentle brown eyes that were anxious but optimistic, poofy hair that was sticking up in all the wrong places, and a crooked smile to bring the whole ruggedly-handsome look together. “Hey, Arin,” Dan greeted, lifting a hand to give him a short wave. He wore a soft blue v-neck and, once again, a very hole-y pair of jeans.

“Jeans? To the beach? Come on, Dan,” Arin criticized playfully, crossing his arms. “Get into the spirit next time. Embrace your inner beach bum.” He gestured to his own outfit, another tank top -- Sailor Moon themed -- with bright pink swim trunks. “You’re lucky you won’t be in the water today.”

Dan sighed in relief at that last statement. “Thank god. I thought you were just going to drag me in and that would be the only thing we’d be doing for weeks.” He paused, looking around at the other people talking and enjoying themselves in the sun. “If I’m not swimming, then what am I doing?”

Arin explained his plan, grabbing Dan’s arm and pulling him closer to the surf. “Just tell me when you need to stop, okay? Today is also like a sort of test, to help me gauge what you’re comfortable with. Don’t push yourself.”

Dan nodded, and once they were about twenty feet from the water, he reached over and squeezed Arin’s arm. His body language was tight and closed off and he was clearly nervous. “We can back up if you want,” Arin reminded him. “But if this is fine, I can go get the stuff from my car and set your spot up.”

With Dan’s approval, Arin jogged to his car, grabbing his beach bag. He had brought a few beach towels, sunscreen, bottled water, snacks, and some other items he felt were necessary. Sadly, he didn’t have an umbrella, but he had two floppy sun hats that would work just fine. He tossed one at Dan once he got close, then started setting up their area.

Dan looked at ease once he was seated on a towel, hat covering his eyes and munching on some peanuts. He waved contentedly at Arin as he kicked his sandals off and headed for the water. 

Arin stepped into the shallows, the cold water giving him goosebumps. He turned to face Dan, letting the tide suck the sand from under his feet like always. “So far I’m safe, right Dan?” he called out, waving his arms. Dan waited a moment and then gave him a thumbs-up. Arin waded deeper into the surf, whitewater passing over his knees as a small wave broke in front of him.

As he moved further out, he occasionally turned back to Dan, yelling different affirmations of safety every time. He spotted a decent-looking wave in the distance and told Dan to observe as he caught it. Arin waited patiently, and when the time was right, he kicked off the sand, almost missing the wave but catching the current behind the crest. Not his best work, but it carried him a decent way to the shore. 

He sat in the waist-deep water that the wave deposited him in, turning around to give Dan a thumbs-up in return. Dan smiled and cheered from the beach, but after a moment his face dropped and he turned pale, pointing a finger towards Arin. Arin tilted his head, but before he could react, a wall of water slammed over him and lifted him from his seated position, pulling him underwater and flipping him around.

Arin breached the surface, panting and gagging. He stumbled out of the water and to the towel spread out next to Dan, coughing. “Holy shit, Arin? Uh, hey, what just happened?” Dan asked, tone worried and fearful. 

It took a moment for Arin to regain his ability to speak. He’d swallowed a lot of water, and it took all of his restraint not to vomit right there in the sand. “..Wiped out. Was an idiot and turned my back to the waves. Undertow caught me pretty good,” he sputtered, shaky hand reaching for a water bottle and cracking it open.

“You said you were safe,” Dan chided, hands hovering over Arin, unsure of how to comfort him.

“I was until I made a mistake,” Arin corrected after gulping down the fresh water. “That wasn’t the ocean’s fault. That was on me, Dan. There are a shit-ton of ways you can get hurt if you let your guard down.” He took a few deep breaths, then stood up and started to walk back to the water.

“You’re going back?” Dan questioned incredulously. “What if you wipe out again?”

“Then it’s _definitely_ my fault,” Arin replied with a laugh, running into the sea once again.

 

A few days later, Dan and Arin met again at Dockweiler Beach instead of Redondo to do their training. It was the weekend, and Redondo was generally more crowded because of the pier. Dockweiler wasn't known to many tourists, so the only people there were California natives. The waves were decently high, and Arin was mostly excited about that because he would be able to show off in front of Dan. 

Dan came a little closer to the water this time, but still vouched to just watch instead of being _in_ the water. He sat on a beach towel with his knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around himself. The air coming off of the Pacific was exceptionally frigid that day, and it didn't help that it was overcast as well. Arin seemed to be impervious to the cold, tying his hair back in a ponytail and running full-throttle into the sea.

Arin was on point in the wave-catching department that afternoon. He rode wave after wave, screaming in glee and trying his best to flaunt his tricks. He spun around while being pushed by the water, causing a spiral of foam to erupt around him as he flew towards the shore. When he went back out into the deeper waters, he would pop in and out of the waves, imitating dolphins and seals.

Everything he did was to try and make Dan smile. And smile he did. When Arin would look up at him after catching a wave, Dan would always have the biggest of grins on his face, pumping his fist and cheering. That smile and that goofy laugh were worth getting his knees shredded by rough sand. Dan made Arin feel like he was flying. Nothing besides bodysurfing had ever been able to do that to him before.

As he glided through the crest of a large wave, Arin glanced at Dan, who had stood up and was leaning forward to watch. Arin smirked and then reached an arm out, taking a deep breath. Kicking with his feet, he turned sideways, attempting to surf the length of the wave, like professional bodysurfers usually did. Normally they had a flipper of sorts on their outstretched arm, but Arin had been practicing and he’d gotten pretty decent at it. Of course, it only lasted a few moments. He flipped and went underwater, letting the wave pass over him.

When he surfaced, all he heard was whooping and hollering from the shore. Arin turned and was met with the sight of Dan jumping up and down, gradually moving towards the water. “That was fuckin sick, dude!” Dan shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. He reached the edge of the surf and waited for Arin to come back to shore, stepping forward and back to avoid the tides.

Arin, dripping with seawater and energy, waded up to Dan, shooting his hand up for the highest of fives. Dan reciprocated, smashing his own hand against Arin’s with extreme force. The two of them hissed, hands stinging and red. “Now _that,_ ” Arin panted, “is bodysurfing.”


	6. Ethereal

The sun was setting over the Pacific Ocean, and light glinted off the waves. The scattered golden rays trembled over the water, breaking the silhouette of the sun up into wiggling pieces. A gradient of orange to deep purple was coating the sky, no clouds in sight. The air was warm, a rare happening so close to the ocean. Soft sounds of water rushing over sand and seagulls cawing filled Redondo Beach, and there was no one around but two men, sitting side by side, bare feet almost touching the water.

Arin’s head was full of sunlight. Or at least it felt like it. The training session had gone excellently, just like all of the others. They’d been doing this for what, three weeks or so? And Dan had already made so much progress. That evening, he had sat right near the shore and let Arin splash him, yelling profanities but also laughing his ass off. He was more enthusiastic than ever about Arin’s bodysurfing, and he tired himself out almost as much as Arin just by cheering and jumping around goofily. Now the two men were just relaxing together, enjoying the sunset and the solitude.

It had been quiet for a while. Their last conversation faded into a natural silence, and the two friends had never been more comfortable with each other. It had gradually evolved from a new friendship into a more profound bond, though they didn’t acknowledge it. They didn’t really have to. There was an unspoken trust, an unspoken feeling that neither could place but couldn’t deny. 

After a while, Dan placed a hand on Arin’s bare shoulder, turning to look him in the eyes. His words seemed to catch in his throat as Arin faced him. In a soft voice Arin hadn’t heard before, Dan breathed, “I think I can step in. With your help.” The words were shaky, but Dan was sure. 

Arin felt his face go red, but he wordlessly stood up, holding out a hand for Dan to grab onto. Once they were both upright, neither one let go. Dan’s grip tightened and he took the first step, toes sinking into wet sand and stopping for a moment. Arin squeezed his hand and the two locked eyes again, Arin’s firey and encouraging stare meeting Dan’s unsure but confident gaze. He took another step and Arin followed, watching as the tide started to rush towards them.

Dan gasped as cold water washed over his feet, and he held on to Arin’s hand even tighter than before. Arin rubbed his thumb against the back of Dan’s hand and he loosened his grip, taking deep breaths. The tide went back in, and the sinking feeling that was familiar to Arin caused Dan to almost fall over. Arin caught him, letting out a light chuckle, and helped him find his footing again. Once the water came back, Dan was more prepared. The cold was still shocking, but he didn’t flinch, and he balanced as the sand was pulled from underneath his feet. Soon he was steady, a wonder-filled smile stretched across his face. Arin let out a whooping shout, waving their clasped hands up in celebration. Danny giggled, and soon they were back to their original position.

They spent a while like that, holding hands and standing in the surf as the waves crashed in the distance. The sun was almost entirely set, and the few visible stars were starting to twinkle into view, dotting the dusky sky with pinpricks of light. It was the perfect night. There weren’t many like this.

Arin looked up and sighed, then closed his eyes and let himself be aware of everything in that moment. He wanted to remember this. Every sensation needed to be imprinted into his mind, so that he never forgot. The breeze through his hair, the water on his feet, Dan’s hand in his. The fullness in his chest, the warmth in his stomach. The feeling that he never wanted this moment to end. 

Arin opened his eyes and noticed that Dan had been staring at him. His expression was hazy, face soft and lips parted slightly. “...Do you feel it, too?” Arin murmured, searching Dan’s eyes for some kind of confirmation. It couldn’t be that he was the only one that felt like this. Being with Dan in this moment was so _right._ Arin had never experienced anything like it before. Dan had to know it too.

Dan said nothing, keeping his gaze fixed on Arin. Something about that look made Arin’s heart pound, and Arin found that he couldn’t stop looking between Dan’s mouth and his eyes. Dan was apparently having that problem as well, since half the time Arin looked up, Dan’s sight was shifting down and back up, moving all across Arin’s face. He gradually let his hand slip from Arin’s. At the same time, the two moved slightly closer, almost closing the gap between them but stopping only a few inches apart.

Then there was the sensation of Dan’s fingers, shaking, gently running down the side of Arin’s cheek. Arin shivered, and suddenly his face was being cupped, and there was a warmth on his lips that was oh, so familiar. The taste, the delightful pressure, everything was the same and Arin hadn’t truly realized how much he’d missed this.

Arin leaned into the kiss, gripping tightly onto the sleeves of Dan’s shirt. It was an innocent, soft kiss, nothing like the first one that the two had shared. This kiss was full of emotion that could only be conveyed by feather-light touches and sweet words spoken in dim light. Arin felt like he was flying when Dan smiled, but that was now a drop in the ocean compared to this. It was like they weren’t in reality-- they were in some other world, some other plane, far away. 

And then it was over, and Arin’s lips were cold and void of the taste of cigarettes and mint gum. He stared at Dan, and neither of them said nothing. Dan turned and walked away, seafoam sloshing as he left Arin to stand alone in the water.

 

The rest of the week marched on, and suddenly Arin was waking up on Sunday, dreading the inevitable interaction with Dan. They hadn’t spoken since that Wednesday night on the beach, and Arin was terrified to hear what Dan had to say about it, if he said anything. Would he put it off as a spur-of-the-moment mistake? Would he admit having feelings for Arin? That was highly unlikely. 

The most likely situation was that they’d awkwardly forget about it, never to mention it again.

That’s exactly what happened.

Dan arrived at Dockweiler on time and greeted Arin like nothing had happened. They joked for a while, but something was obviously off. Dan’s laugh seemed stale and forced, and his usually snappy responses were replaced with silence. He sat on the shore while Arin took his shirt off, then stuck his face in his phone instead of watching Arin ride the waves.

At one point, Arin walked to where Dan was seated, having just missed a perfect wave. He was tired and upset, and he felt like standing in water with Dan again. He had a feeling that it wasn’t going to happen, though. “Why aren’t you coming in?” He asked, gesturing to the shallows.

Dan didn’t answer for a while, drawing lines in the sand with his fingers. He flicked them clean and picked underneath his nails, making Arin wait for his response. “I don’t think I can,” he finally admitted, avoiding eye contact entirely.

Arin paused, blinking slowly. “...What do you mean? You handled it fine last time--”

“You said you wouldn’t push me, Arin, and I feel pretty pushed. Just go out and splash around or whatever,” Dan spat, and Arin could practically feel the venom in his words. Arin tried to say something else, but his voice didn’t seem to work. Seeing Dan like this was upsetting, to say the least.

Hurt and confused, Arin went back into the ocean. He could forget about Dan for a while when he was riding waves. No matter what his problems were, the sea could distract him for a while. But still, as he rode wave after wave, he felt Dan’s lips on his once again and felt the sting of his harsh words. After pulling himself out of the water, he realized that Dan was gone. 

Arin ended up sitting in the sand, looking out at the waves just like he and Dan had four days ago. What had he done wrong? _Dan_ was the one who initiated the damn kiss, it’s not like Arin was to blame for that. Was Dan mad at himself and just projecting it onto him? Probably. And if that was the case, then Arin was fucked. There was nothing he could do if Dan regretted things. Their friendship would probably never go back to normal, and he couldn’t do anything.

Except get drunk.


	7. Push & Pull

Arin was at the bar again. He had decided that this was the only that would make him feel better. The ocean just made him think of Dan now. It was true that he had met Dan in this very bar, but that was a hazy memory from weeks ago.

Normally he didn’t like being too drunk, so it didn’t take too much to get him going. Arin had teetered off the edge of being tipsy, and now it was time to leave. He had gotten the idea of going to Dan’s apartment, beating the door down, and giving him a piece of his mind. But as his blood was permeated with alcohol, the plan changed. Arin was an emotional drunk, so of course, he was going to admit his feelings. If he could make it out the door.

Miraculously, Arin walked all the way to his apartment building without falling over. The fresh air outside helped with his foggy head, but he was still intent on seeing Dan. He didn’t care if they fought, or fucked, or if Dan didn’t even care. He just needed to figure out what the hell was going on because he was _sick of it._

Arin knocked harshly and irrhythmically on the door to Dan’s apartment, leaning against the wall afterward. Nothing happened, so he banged on the door this time, summoning all of his drunken strength. Finally, Dan opened the door, and the only thing Arin could say was, “You look like shit.”

Dan rolled his eyes and snorted, ashing his cigarette. “You don’t look so hot either, big cat.”

The pet name brought back memories to a similar setting. Why did Dan only call him that when one or both of them were drunk? That made Arin angry for some reason. “Hey, fuck you, Denny. Danny. Whatever your dumb name is. I don’t fuckin care. Let me in so I can talk to you, punkbag.” 

Dan’s eyebrows lifted, but then he sighed. “You’re drunk.”

“No shit, Dicklock.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Dan opened the door wider. “Come in, I’ll get you some water.” He walked inside and Arin followed, slamming the door behind him. Smoke wafted through Dan’s apartment and Arin almost gagged at the smell, coughing grossly instead. “Arin, you don’t have to do that, okay?” Dan chided haggardly. “Just cough like a normal human being.”

Arin shot him a death glare, then plopped himself down on the couch. “Why do you smoke? It’s gonna kill you, y’know,” Arin slurred, though he sounded genuinely concerned. His temper was fading away, and he remembered why he was here. “I really would miss you if you died, Dan.”

Dan, who was bringing a glass of water to Arin from the kitchen area, stopped in his tracks for a moment, staring into the glass with an unreadable expression. Arin didn’t say anything else, and Dan took a deep breathe, continuing with his task. He handed the glass to Arin, making sure he had a good grip before letting go. “Why did you come here, Arin?” Dan asked, resigned. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and picked his lighter up from the coffee table, moving to stand next to the open window on the other side of the room. 

Arin took a long drink of water, and the cold liquid cleared his head for a moment. “...I don’t know,” he mumbled, staring off into space. “I just thought that if I came here, I’d be able to fix things.”

“There’s nothing to fix,” Dan said around a cig. He lit it and inhaled, being courteous to Arin and blowing the smoke out the window. “I’m sorry I snapped at you today. You didn’t have to get drunk and come pick a fight with me.”

“No, no. No,” Arin repeated, shaking his head. “It’s not about that. It’s nothing like that.” He hesitated, thinking twice about his initial plan. “I just. Nevermind.”

And Dan dropped it. At this point, he didn’t want to delve into deep emotional talks. The two ended up chatting about nothing and everything, just shallow conversations that didn’t require much thought for either of them. Eventually, they got into the topic of music, and Dan mentioned that he’d written a song for the first time in a while. Arin’s interest piqued, his mood lifted, and he sat up from his slumped position on the couch. 

“You gotta lemme hear it, Danny,” he coaxed, giving Dan a sweet smile. “Please? We’re friends, right? Maybe I can give you some critiques.”

Dan shook his head, taking a drag from the cigarette. “No way. You wouldn’t like it.”

“Well if I don’t, I can tell you how to change it to make me like it,” Arin giggled, crossing his arms. “Come one, dude. I’m your only audience and your only critic. It helps to show your art to people.”

Dan was silent for a minute, but he eventually put out his cigarette and got up, disappearing for a little while and coming back toting a pretty beat-up bass guitar, an equally ragged notebook, and a mini-amplifier. “A bass? How do you write songs with just a bass,” Arin asked, head tilted.

Rolling his eyes, Dan lifted the guitar strap around him and positioned himself to play, making sure the bass was hooked up and coming through the amplifier. Just before he started picking, though, Arin burst into song. “OCEAN MAN, TAKE ME BY THE HAND, LEAD ME TO THE LAND THAT YOU UNDERSTAND--”

“Shut the fuck up!” Dan interrupted, unable to hold back the laughter that pushed its way from his stomach. “This is a serious song, man.”

“Is that so?” teased Arin, a coy smile on his lips. “What’s it about?”

Dan paused. “It’s, uh. It’s actually about you.”

Arin’s smile faded a little, cheeks turning red. “Oh. That’s cool, I’ve never had a song written about me before. Uh, go ahead! I can’t wait to hear it.”

Counting underneath his breath, Dan bounced slightly, then started plucking the bass’s strings, playing a fast-paced, energetic bassline. After a few measures that served as the intro, he started singing.

 

_“I woke up on a wave that crashes,_  
When will the tide return?  
And if you leave with only ashes,  
Can’t rebuild what has been burned  
And down the road, with all the seeds grown,  
And benefit of view  
We throw away the things we want most  
Depending on our mood 

_“I don’t know where you are_  
I don’t know where I’m going  
But I can’t be that far   
From where your heart is flowing 

_“Just like fireflies_  
Briefly held, meant to be let go  
Somewhere in the night  
The words you spoke will always light an  
Echo in my mind  
A last goodbye, one breath within our  
Ever-shifting lives  
Spare your cries, there will be no reply.” 

 

Dan continued singing, going into the second verse and the last chorus. Arin sat in silence, shaken to the core by Dan’s soft voice and the steady notes of the bass. He nodded his head to the beat, but something stirred inside him.

This song was about him. The lyrics were an insight into Dan’s thoughts of him, and he seemed pretty conflicted. It sounded like he thought Arin was disconnected from him, and that they were only meant to be friends or.. whatever, for a short time. 

Dan brought the song to an end and cleared his throat, setting the bass aside and turning the amplifier off. “So, uh. What’d you think?”

Arin studied Dan for a moment. He needed to make a decision here. This wasn’t the best time for decision-making, but he felt that his head was clear enough to do this. He wouldn’t regret it.

So Arin surged forward, grabbing Dan’s shoulders and crashing their lips together.

A moan flew out of Dan’s mouth immediately, and that definitely motivated Arin to continue, running his hands all along Dan’s torso as they kissed sloppily. Dan reached up and tugged at Arin’s hair, and he yelped. “Was that a good noise?” Dan asked breathlessly, holding Arin back for a moment.

“Fuck, of course it was, you ass,” Arin practically hissed, pressing his body against Dan’s again. 

They made out for a few more minutes, teeth clashing, tongues slipping and sliding in and out. At one point Dan caught Arin’s tongue between his lips and sucked, and Arin was almost ashamed of the sounds that came out of him.

Eventually, they both ended up shirtless and on top of each other on Dan’s couch. Dan pressed Arin into the cushions, hands trailing over Arin’s bare chest. The friction between them was delicious and right, and Arin couldn’t help but unbutton Dan’s jeans to get at what was inside. He slipped his shorts off as well, and soon both men were making ungodly noises as they moved together.

Thoughts were running like fire through Arin’s head and he was scared they would slip out. Not the ones that were usual for him, _God you feel so good,_ for example, but the deeper ones. The emotional ones. There was a warmth in Arin’s chest as Dan pleasured them both, and the hazy look in Dan’s eyes made butterflies appear in his stomach. He didn’t want to accidentally slip out how he felt. Because Dan probably didn’t feel the same.

Dan suggested that they should move to his bedroom, and Arin emphatically agreed. He hadn’t done this in a while, so he was maybe a little too eager. Dan didn’t seem to mind, accepting his eagerness in earnest and reciprocating as they rocked his bed back and forth. Arin stared into Dan’s brown eyes as they made love, overcome with emotion and pleasure that ran like electricity through his veins. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to say something other than Dan’s name and curse words. He had to say something.

“Dan, Dan, _fuck,_ you’re so good, you’re so good,” Arin praised, eyes practically rolling back into his head. 

Dan smiled, panting. “Yeah? Does it feel good?” he moaned, speeding up his movements. 

Arin smiled, laughing slightly. “Yes, it does, but it’s because it’s you.” He bit his lip and suppressed another groan. It was hard to put it into words. “I wanted it to be you. I always want it to be you. You’re so good, and -- _shhhit, fuckfuckfuck goddd right there_ \-- you’re nice, and you’re funny, and I love being around you--” Arin cut himself off, as he was dangerously close to saying the thing he really didn’t need to say. But surprisingly, his compliments seemed to be working quite well for Dan. The curly-haired man was an irrhythmic mess, breathy moans and Arin’s name pouring out of his mouth.

“Say it again, fuck, Arin… tell me I’m good.”

The desperate tone of Dan’s voice made Arin’s pleasure center light up, and he bit down on his knuckle to keep from making too much noise. “You’re so good, Dan. You make me feel like I’m flying.”

Dan stuttered and all of the muscles in his body tensed, making Arin feel even more delicious sensations and pushing him over the edge as well. They stayed locked together, basking in the high of climax, until Dan shifted away and fell back onto the bed next to Arin. “We can clean up tomorrow,” he mumbled, resting his head on Arin’s chest.

Arin’s lips curled into a smile, and he lazily curled a lock of Dan’s hair around his fingers. “I meant it all, Dan. I want you to know that,” he purred, closing his eyes.

He received no reply, only the soft, deep breaths of slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just letting those who don't know that the song I used was Firefly by Skyhill!


	8. Love is the End

The next morning, Arin woke up alone. He sat up in a state of panic, but quickly calmed down once he realized where he was. A warmth fired up inside of him when he remembered _why_ he was where he was. Arin let out a happy sigh, leaning back against his pillow. It was good. _Dan_ was good.

Dan. Where was he? Arin climbed out of bed and stretched, nose aggravated by the scent of smoke that was permanently cooked into Dan’s apartment. After he got Dan to lose his fear of the ocean, he’d attack that smoking habit of his.

Arin padded into the main area of Dan’s apartment, picking up the clothes that were scattered around the floor and gradually putting them on. Still no sign of Dan. Arin found his phone on the coffee table and checked the time.

_Shit._ It was after one P.M. Barry wasn’t going to be happy about that. Arin sent a quick text to his boss, using up the last 2% of battery that his phone had. He looked around Dan’s kitchen, half-expecting there to be a note like the one Dan left at the comic shop, but there wasn’t one to be found. 

Arin felt bad about leaving Dan’s apartment unlocked, but he didn’t want his clothes smelling like smoke. His skin and hair did from all of the close contact, but surprisingly his outfit hadn’t absorbed the smell. 

After he changed into a clean set of clothes, Arin plugged his phone in and went to make breakfast, hoping that there’d be a message from Dan when he returned. They had exchanged numbers after the bike ride at the Strand, to organize the “beach therapy.” They ended up sending each other memes, especially one called Wolfjob. Dan sent him that picture about five times every day, it felt like.

Stomach full and hopes high, Arin checked his phone, but the only message he had was one from Barry telling him that it was okay that he didn’t show up, but to call him next time if he needed a day off. Arin cringed at himself. He really didn’t think things through last night, did he? But it was okay. The payoff was worth it.

He spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up around the apartment. He planned to invite Dan over for dinner and fully discuss the nature of their relationship, which sounded scary, but after last night he had a feeling it would go better than expected. Arin was going to make his favorite meal, spaghetti. He was a simple man, with simple needs.

Five o’clock rolled around quicker than he thought it would, and he hadn’t even gone to the store to get groceries. Still no texts from Dan, so Arin sent him one asking what his plans were for the night, then started setting up for dinner. He didn’t want to be too cliche, but he had some candles he was saving for a special occasion, so why not?

Six o’clock, still no texts. Arin’s leg shook as he sat at his dinner table, fully set up. He needed to know if Dan was eating with him before he went out and spent a shitload of money on cooking supplies. Arin decided to go knock on Dan’s door, but once he did, there was no answer, even after he banged on it the night before.

Now he was starting to get worried. He called Dan this time, but still no answer. By seven P.M. he was pacing anxiously around his apartment, checking his phone every few minutes. What the hell was Dan doing?

At last, his phone pinged. A text from Dan, asking Arin to meet at Hermosa Beach as soon as possible. Arin was confused, to say the least, and a little upset that Dan was ruining his plans. But at least he knew Dan was okay. He got into his car and made the twenty-ish minute drive, not surprised to see that Hermosa was pretty much deserted. The sun had already gone down, and the wind coming off of the sea was pretty freezing that night.

Arin walked through the sand and to the shore, scanning the beach to try and find Dan. It wasn’t until he heard his name being called did he look to the ocean, and what he saw surprised the shit out of him.

Dan was in the ocean. Not standing in the surf or wading around; he was about stomach-deep in the freezing water. He was grinning like a madman, waving his arms at Arin in a frenzy. “ARIN LOOK!” he yelled, twirling around in a circle. “I’m in the ocean!”

“Holy shit, Dan!” Arin shouted back. He hadn’t planned on going in the water, but he kicked his shoes off and waded in until he was about knee-deep. “You went in there all by yourself? That’s awesome! I’m super proud!” He really was. His heart swelled and he laughed loudly along with Dan as he jumped in the water, rising and falling with the waves like a pro.

“I have something to tell you,” Dan revealed, eyes shining in the moonlight. He clenched his fists, moving closer to Arin.

Arin’s stomach did a little flip. Was this it? Had Dan planned this the whole time? Not contacting Arin, making him worried, making him emotionally charged for this moment. _God, I hope so,_ Arin thought to himself, twisting the bottom edge of his t-shirt in his hands. 

Dan was absolutely beaming. “I love you, Arin.”

The world seemed to explode around Arin and he cheered, jumping up and down and spinning in circles just like Dan was doing earlier. “I love you too!” he yelled, wanting the whole world to hear it. He loved someone. And they loved him back. 

Suddenly Arin was taken out of the moment. The tides surged around his knees, throwing his balance off. He backed away slowly, though the water wanted to pull him in further. _Shit. High tide._ He kept backing up. “Dan, we need to get out now,” he warned, tone serious.

Dan laughed, still spinning around and jumping. He turned to face Arin, head tilted. “Hey, why? I want to swim. I want to learn how to bodysurf, right now. I’m invincible, Arin,” Dan urged, lifting his hands high above his head. “I’M INVINCIBLE!”

Before Arin could say anything, two waves crashed in on each other, directly behind Dan. He stood unaware until the walls of water slammed into his back, and he disappeared under the water. Arin screamed Dan’s name, running back into the water. The waves settled but Dan wasn’t above the water. Arin started to panic, breaths coming short as he whipped around, trying to spot bubbles or any other indication that Dan was underwater. He heard a splash further away and turned in its direction. Dan was above the surface, but he was being pulled away from the shore at an amazing speed. Arin’s stomach dropped.

The two converging waves had created a strong undertow, and once Dan was underneath, he got sucked into it. The riptide.

The nature of the riptide was violent. It sucked anything in it far away from the shore, depositing fifty to hundreds of feet away. Past the point where the beach was still visible. 

Arin took deep breaths, recalling everything he’d read about rip currents and how to survive. Dan needed to swim parallel to the shore, not straight back. He’d be fighting the current if he did that, and the current almost always won. Eventually he’d tire out, unable to keep himself afloat. Hopefully, Arin would get to him before that happened.

Kicking off of the sand, Arin swam as fast as he could in Dan’s direction. He was already a good distance away from the shore, and who knows where the riptide would let him go. 

Arin swam further and further, his lungs starting to burn. He called Dan’s name again, listening for an answer. All he heard was waves. 

But then he caught something faint and far away. He listened closely, pausing to float in the water for a moment. It was Dan. The screams sent a spike of adrenaline through Arin and he took off toward the sound. He caught a glimpse of Dan over a tall wave. He was swimming the wrong way. “Fuck!” Arin spat, pushing himself even harder to get to his friend. 

“ARIN! FUCK!”

He felt the pull of the current and there Dan was, aggressively swimming against it. “Don’t fight the current, swim to me!” Arin instructed, voice straining to be heard over the crashing waves. Dan seemed to hear him, though, because he turned sideways, trying hard to swim away. Arin realized quickly that he wasn’t strong enough. Fighting the current had sapped his energy away, and Dan was being pulled back in.

Arin swam forward and grabbed Dan’s arm, yanking him and kicking with his legs. It took a few tries but he pulled Dan away from the riptide, swimming behind him to wrap his arms around Dan, half-carrying him through the waves.

Tears streamed down Arin’s cheeks as he helped Dan swim back to the shore, keeping a wide berth from the riptide. 

The two crawled back onto the shore, panting and coughing. Arin latched onto Dan, sobs coursing through his body, “Fuck, I thought I might lose you,” he whispered, hand resting on Dan’s bare chest. Dan wrapped his long arms around Arin, shivering and softly petting Arin’s soaking hair.

“I love you,” Dan said, voice rough and honest.

“I love you too. So much. So, so much,” Arin affirmed. He breathed Dan’s scent in, and for the first time, he welcomed the smell of cigarettes.

They went back to Arin’s apartment and curled up on his couch with blankets wrapped around them like burritos, playing Mario Kart and getting playfully mad at each other. And once it was time to turn in for the night, Dan crawled into bed along with Arin, who rested his head on Dan’s chest just to hear his heart beat.

The two kissed each other goodnight, soft and slow, like it was the first time in a long, long time.


	9. Epilogue

Santa Monica was always packed. It didn’t matter the time of year or the time of day, there were always people there. But for the past month Dan had insisted upon that as the location of his first wave, and of course Arin had to oblige. How could he say no to a face like that?

They waited through the insane traffic and endured the ridiculous parking fees until they were finally walking on the beach. “It’s not how I pictured it,” Dan mused, causing Arin to stop in his tracks and give him the nastiest stink eye in the world. “Just kidding, big cat. I actually love it,” Dan added, earning a punch in the arm. He deserved it.

He and Arin stripped their shirts off and barrelled into the waves, laughing and splashing each other just like a couple of kids. Dan dipped underwater and bounced back up, letting his hair hang in his face like a mask. Arin snorted, lifting the mass of hair up to peck Dan’s nose. 

They floated, jumping up over half-formed waves until Arin spotted a larger wave forming two waves away. “See that, Dan? That one has your name written on it. You got this.”

Dan glanced over at Arin anxiously and then looked back at the wave as it drew nearer. “..You want me to hold your hand on this one? I’ve never tried it before, and I think it could be pretty cool,” Arin suggested, throwing Dan a wink.

“Uh that’s pretty gay, Arin,” Dan pointed out, but then added, “and I’m totally gay for you, so why the hell not?” after seeing the reproachful look that Arin gave him.

The couple held hands and turned away from the wave. Arin counted down slowly, and once the wave was right at their back, he screamed, “GO!”

Dan and Arin kicked together, and suddenly they were pulled up and forward, water rushing around them and sending them flying right with the crest of the wave. Holding hands, they rode the wave, Dan laughing in pure joy. It carried them all the way back to the shore, and they stood up together, laughing and cheering. Arin gave Dan a bear hug, then kissed him like, ten times in a row.

“I knew you could do it, Dan. I knew it.” He beamed with pride. “How did it feel?”

Dan paused, looking out at the sea. “I felt like I was on top of the world, or flying through the air. Magical. And it was even better with you beside me.”

The two looked at each other, love in their eyes. But then, after a pause, they looked ahead, racing back into the sea to catch another wave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! Thank you for reading!
> 
> This challenge was honestly such a blast, I loved it even though i spent the last few days stressed out of my mind to finish on time. I have to thank my lovely collaborators again. You guys are so talented and you really helped create such a wonderful environment for my fic.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned for more game grumps content from me ;)


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